roger craig - when they kill a president

7/31/2019 Roger Craig - When They Kill a President

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"When They Kill A President," by Roger Craig

unpublished manuscript written by a man who *didn't* change his story

Roger Craig was a deputy Sheriff in Dallas at the time of the assassination

of President Kennedy. He was a member of a group of men from Dallas County

Sheriff James Eric "Bill" Decker's office that was directed to stand out infront of the Sheriff's office on Main Street (at the corner of Houston) and

"take no part whatsoever in the security of that motorcade." Once he heard

the first shot, Roger Craig immediately bolted towards Houston Street. His

participation in the formative hours of the investigation during the rest

of that day and into the evening included observations and experiences that

would have singlehandedly destroyed the Warren Commission fairy tale before

a grand jury or a Congressional investigation.

Roger Craig was named the Dallas Sheriff's Department "Officer of the Year"

in 1960 by the Dallas Traffic Commission. He received four promotions

while he was deputy Sheriff. Among the most important events he witnessed:

* at approximately 12:40 p.m., deputy Craig was standing on thesouth side of Elm Street when he heard a shrill whistle coming

from the north side of Elm and turned to see a man--wearing

faded blue trousers and a long sleeved work shirt made of some

type of grainy material--come running down the grassy knoll

from the direction of the TSBD. He saw a light green Rambler

station wagon coming slowly west on Elm Street, pull over to

the north curb and pick up the man coming down the hill. By

this time the traffic was too heavy for him to be able to reach

them before the car drove away going west on Elm.

* after witnessing the above scene, deputy Craig ran to the

command post at Elm and Houston to report the incident to the

authorities. When he got there and asked who was involved in

the investigation, a man turned to him and said "I'm with the

Secret Service." Craig recounted what he had just seen. This

"Secret Service" man showed little interest in Craig's

description of the people leaving, but seemed extremely

interested in the description of the Rambler to the degree

this was the only part of the recounting that he wrote down.

(On 12/22/67, Roger Craig learned from Jim Garrison that this

man's name was Edgar Eugene Bradley, a right wing preacher from

North Hollywood, California and part-time assistant to Carl

McIntire, the fundamentalist minister who had founded the

American Counsel of Christian Churches. Then-governor Ronald

Reagan refused to grant the extradition request from Garrison

for the indictment of Bradley during the New Orleans Probe.)

* immediately after this Craig was told by Sheriff Decker to help

the police search the TSBD. Deputy Craig was one of the two

people to find the three rifle cartridges on the floor beneath

the window on the southeast corner of the sixth floor. All

three were no more than an inch apart and all were lined up in

the same direction. One of the three shells was crimped on the

end which would have held the slug. It had not been stepped on

but merely crimped over on one small portion of the rim. The

rest of that end was perfectly round.

* he was present at when the rifle was found, and, along with

Deputy Eugene Boone who had first spotted the weapon, was

immediately joined by police Lt. Day, Homicide Capt. Fritz, anddeputy constable Seymour Weitzman, an expert on weapons who had


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been in the sporting goods business for many years and was

familiar with all domestic and foreign makes. Lt. Day briefly

inspected the rifle and handed it to Capt. Fritz who asked if

anyone knew what kind of rifle it was. After a close

examination, Weitzman declared it to be a 7.65 German Mauser.

Capt. Fritz agreed with him.

* at the moment when Capt. Fritz concurred with Weitzman's

identification of the rifle, an unknown Dallas police officer

came running up the stairs and advised Capt. Fritz that a

Dallas policeman had been shot in the Oak Cliff area. Craig

instinctively looked at his watch. The time was 1:06 p.m.

(The Warren Commission attempted to move this time back beyond

1:15 to plausible claim Oswald had reached the Tippit murder

scene in a more humanly possible time-frame than would be the

case if Tippit had the encounter with his murderer any earlier.)

* Later in the afternoon Craig received word of Oswald's arrest

and that he was suspected of being involved in the Kennedy's

murder. He immediately thought of the man running down thegrassy knoll and made a telephone call to Capt. Will Fritz to

gave him the description of the man he had seen. Fritz said

Craig's description sounded like the man they had and asked

him to come take a look. When he saw Oswald in Fritz's

personal office Deputy Craig confirmed that this was indeed

the man, dressed in the same way, that he had seen running

down the knoll and into the Rambler. They went into the

office together and Fritz told Oswald,

"This man (pointing to me) saw you leave." At which time

the suspect replied, "I told you people I did." Fritz,

apparently trying to console Oswald, said, "Take it easy,

son--we're just trying to find out what happened." Fritz

then said, "What about the car?" Oswald replied, leaning

forward on Fritz' desk, "That station wagon belongs to

Mrs. Paine--don't try to drag her into this." Sitting

back in his chair, Oswald said very disgustedly and very

low, "Everybody will know who I am now."

The fact that Fritz said "car" and this elicited Oswald's

outburst about a "station wagon"--that no one else had

mentioned--confirms the veracity of Roger Craig's story.

* junior counsel for the Warren Commission Dave Belin, was the

man who interview Roger Craig in April of 1964. After the

being questioned in what Craig recounts as a very manipulative

and selective way, Belin asked "Do you want to follow or waive

your signature or sign now?" Craig noted, "Since there was

nothing but a tape recording and a stenographer's note book,

there was obviously nothing to sign. All other testimony which

I have read (a considerable amount) included an explanation

that the person could waive his signature then or his statement

would be typed and he would be notified when it was ready for

signature. Belin did not say this to me." After Craig first

saw the transcript in January of 1968 he discoverd that the

testimony he gave had been changed in fourteen different

places.

Deputy Sheriff Roger Craig never changed his account of what he witnessedand experienced on Friday, November 22, 1963. (The passage where he


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describes the methodology employed by David Belin in selectively recording

his testimony is highly illuminating and provides us with a glimpse of how

the "W.C." interviewed witnesses in a very controlled way.) He remained

convinced, for the rest of this life, that the man entering the Rambler

station wagon was Lee Harvey Oswald. He was fired from the Sheriff's

office on July 4, 1967, and from that day forward he never again could

find steady work. Multiple attempts were made on his life, his wifefinally left him, and in the end, he was alleged to have shot himself to

death on May 15, 1975.

the following is an unpublished manuscript written by the late Roger Craig:

___________________________________________________________________________

WHEN THEY KILL A PRESIDENT

By

Roger Craig - (c) 1971

This book is dedicated to my wife Molly,

who meant it when she said

"for better or worse."

I

Our president John Kennedy went down to Dallas town

Where the hired assassins waited and there they shot him down,

Because he dreamed of peace and plenty and he talked it 'round

His dream goes marching on.

The Dallas County Court House at 505 Main Street was indeed a

unique place to come to hear what was WRONG with John F. Kennedy

and his policies as President of these United States.

This building housed the elite troops of the Dallas County

Sheriff's Department (of which I was one), who, with blind

obedience, followed the orders of their Great White Father: BILL

DECKER, Sheriff of Dallas County.

From these elite troops came the most bitter verbal attacks on

President Kennedy. They spoke very strongly against his policies

concerning the Bay of Pigs incident and the Cuban Missile crisis.

They seemed to resent very much the fact that President Kennedy was

a Catholic. I do not know why this was such a critical issue with

many of the deputies but they did seem to hold this against

President Kennedy.

The concession stand in the lobby of the court house was the

best place to get into a discussion concerning the President. The

old man who ran the stand evidenced a particular hatred for

President Kennedy. He seemed to go out of his way to drag anyone

who came by his stand into a discussion about the President. His

name is J. C. Kiser.

He was a little man with a short mustache and glasses that hewore right on the end of his nose. He was a particularly good


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friend of Sheriff Decker, and he held the concession in the lobby

for many years. Like Decker, he was unopposed when his lease came

up for renewal. It was common knowledge that Bill Decker made it

possible for him to remain there as long as he wished. This sick

little man not only had a deep hatred for John F. Kennedy, he also

hated the black people, even those who spent their money at his

stand. He would often curse them as they walked away after makinga purchase from him. He flatly refused to make telephone change

for them even though he would be simultaneously making change for a

white person.

*This little man* was a typical example of the atmosphere that

lingered in this building that housed LAW AND ORDER in Dallas

County.

Many of the deputies had a dislike for the President--some more

so than others. However, there *were* those who would not degrade

themselves by taking verbal punches at our President. One of these

was Hiram Ingram. Although devoted to Bill Decker, he was also a

good friend of mine. We often discussed the political debates that

took place in the lobby. Hiram had a great dislike for this sick

little man who seemed to lead the attack on the President. He alsohad little respect for the deputies, attorneys and court house

employees who tolerated or even agreed with this philosophy of

attacking John F. Kennedy.

Hiram Ingram was a small man--in stature. He was always ready

with a friendly smile and greeting. He began his association with

the County during the Bonnie and Clyde era--when he was an

ambulance driver and inside employee at a local funeral home. In

fact, Hiram prepared Bonnie and Clyde for burial after they were

brought back to Dallas from the ambush in Louisiana.

Hiram and I were very close--one of those friendships which

develops when some people first meet. I had known Hiram for about

four years at the time of the assassination. He was working in the

Civil Division and shortly after November 22, 1963 he had a heart

attack. When he returned to work Decker put him on the Bond Desk,

where I would later be and work closely with Hiram. I worked the

day shift one month and the evening shift the following month.

Hiram worked only evenings. So every other month we worked

together. This gave us time to talk and discuss the events in

Dallas and even the Sheriff's Office itself. The Department was

not well organized.

To clear some of the bonds and bondsmen we would have to call

Decker at home--no matter what time of the day or night--for his

approval or ANY decision. This applied only to certain bondsmen.

Decker had his chosen few who were not questioned. Hiram was a

very dependable employee and should not have had to clear the minor

decisions with our Great White Father, Bill Decker.

As the months passed and Hiram and I worked together we built a

mutual respect for each other. When Decker fired me on July 4,

1967 Hiram was infuriated but, like any employee of Decker's, he

couldn't say anything in my defense for fear of having *his*

employment cut short or his reputation ruined. One of Decker's

favorite past times was ruining reputations.

Our friendship did not end with my termination. We continued to

talk from time to time and Hiram was very helpful when Penn Jones

wanted information concerning records at the Sheriff's office.

However, in March of 1968 Hiram explained to me that information

was getting more difficult to get for some reason. Fortunately by

this time I had already supplied Penn Jones and Bill Boxley

(investigator for Jim Garrison) with much information from Hiram.

About two weeks later, near the end of March 1968, I heard thatHiram had fallen at home and broken his hip and was in the


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hospital. I went to see my good buddy to cheer him up and received

the shock of my life. Hiram was under oxygen and could not have

*any* visitors. Three days later he was dead--of cancer. He had

been working just prior to the fall. I think that we owe a debt of

gratitude to this great man who, in his own quiet way, helped us

all so much.

Thus . . . we have the atmosphere that was to greet thePresident of the United States upon his arrival in Dallas.

However, things were to get even worse before he arrived.

The battle ground had been picked and the UNwelcome mat was out

for President Kennedy. Unknown to most of us, the rest of the plan

was being completed. The patsy had been chosen and placed in the

building across from the court house--where he could not deny his

presence *after it was all over*. This was done with the apparent

approval and certainly with the knowledge of our co-workers, the

F.B.I., since they later admitted that they knew Lee Harvey Oswald

was employed at the School Book Depository Building located on the

corner of Elm Street and Houston Street across from the Sheriff's

Office.

The security had been arranged by the Secret Service and theDallas Police--our boys in blue. The final touch was put on by

Sheriff James Eric (Bill) Decker. On the morning of November 22,

1963 the patrolmen in the districts which make up the Dallas County

Sheriff's Patrol Division were left in the field, ignorant of what

was going on in the downtown area, which was just as well. Decker

was not going to LET them do anything anyway.

About 10:30 a.m. November 22, 1963, Bill Decker called into his

office what I will refer to as his street people--plain-clothes

men, detectives and warrant men, myself included--and told us that

President Kennedy was coming to Dallas and that the motorcade would

come down Main Street. He then advised us that we were to stand

out in front of the building, 505 Main Street and represent the

Sheriff's Office. We were to take NO part whatsoever in the

security of that motorcade. (WHY, JAMES ERIC?) So . . . the stage

had been set, all the pawns were in place, the security had been

withdrawn from that one vulnerable location. Come John F. Kennedy,

come to Elm and Houston Streets in Dallas, Texas and take your

place in history!

The time was 12:15 p.m. I was standing in front of the court

house at 505 Main Street. Deputy Sheriff Jim Ramsey was standing

behind me. We were waiting for the President of the United States.

I had a feeling of pride that I was going to be not more than four

feet from the President but deep inside something kept gnawing at

me. I said to Jim Ramsey, "He's late." Jim's reply stunned me.

He said, "Maybe somebody will shoot the son of a bitch." Then I

realized the crowd was hostile. The men about me felt that they

were FORCED to acknowledge his presence. Although he was the

President, they were making statements like, "Why does he have to

come to Dallas?"

Something else was bothering me . . . being a trained officer, I

always looked for anything which might be amiss about any situation

with which I was confronted. Suddenly I knew what was wrong.

There were no officers guarding the intersections or controlling

the crowd. My mind flashed back to the meeting in Decker's office

that morning, then back to the lack of security in this area.

Suddenly the motorcade approached and President Kennedy was

smiling and waving and for a moment I relaxed and fell into the

happy mood the President was displaying. The car turned the corner

onto Houston Street. I was still looking at the rest of the people

in the party. I was soon to be shocked back into reality. ThePresident had passed and was turning west on Elm Street . . . as if


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there were no people, no cars, the only thing in my world at that

moment was a rifle shot! I bolted toward Houston Street. I was

fifteen steps from the corner--before I reached it two more shots

had been fired. Telling myself that it wasn't true and at the same

time knowing that it was, I continued to run. I ran across Houston

Street and beside the pond, which is on the west side of Houston.

I pushed a man out of my way and he fell into the pond. I ran downthe grass between Main and Elm. People were lying all over the

ground. I thought, "My God, they've killed a woman and child," who

were lying beside the gutter on the South side of Elm Street. I

checked them and they were alright. I saw a Dallas Police Officer

run up the grassy knoll and go behind the picket fence near the

railroad yards. I followed and behind the fence was complete

confusion and hysteria.

I began to question people when I noticed a woman in her early

thirties attempting to drive out of the parking lot. She was in a

brown 1962 or 1963 Chevrolet. I stopped her, identified myself and

placed her under arrest. She told me that she HAD to leave and I

said, "Lady, you're not going anywhere." I turned her over to

Deputy Sheriff C. I. (Lummy) Lewis and told him the circumstancesof the arrest. Officer Lewis told me that he would take her to

Sheriff Decker and take care of her car.

The parking lot behind the picket fence was of little importance

to most of the investigators at the scene except that the shots

were thought to have come from there.

Let us examine this parking lot. It was leased by Deputy

Sheriff B. D. Gossett. He in turn rented parking space by the

month to the deputies who worked in the court house, except for

official vehicles. I rented one of these spaces from Gossett when

I was a dispatcher working days or evenings. I paid Gossett $3.00

per month and was given a key to the lot. An 3 interesting point

is that the lot had an iron bar across the only entrance and exit

(which were the same). The bar had a chain and lock on it. The

only people having access to it were deputies with keys. Point:

how did the woman gain access and, what is more important, who was

she and WHY did she HAVE to leave?

This was to be the beginning of the never-ending cover up. Had

I known then what I know now, *I* would have personally questioned

the woman and impounded and searched her car. I had no way of

knowing that an officer, with whom I had worked for four years, was

capable of losing a thirty year old woman and a three thousand

pound automobile. To this day Officer Lewis does not know who she

was, where she came from or what happened to her. STRANGE!

Meanwhile, back at the parking lot, I continued to help the

Dallas Officers restore order. When things were somewhat calmer I

began to question the people who were standing at the top of the

grassy knoll, asking if anyone had seen anything strange or unusual

before or during the President's fatal turn onto Elm Street.

Several people indicated to me that they thought the shots came

from the area of the grassy knoll or behind the picket fence. My

next reliable witness came forward in the form of Mr. Arnold

Rowland. Mr. Rowland and his wife were standing at the top of the

grassy knoll on the north side of Elm Street. Arnold Rowland began

telling me his account of what he saw before the assassination. He

said approximately fifteen minutes before President Kennedy arrived

he was looking around and something caught his eye. It was a white

man standing by the 6th floor window of the Texas School Book

Depository Building in the southeast corner, holding a rifle

equipped with a telescopic sight and in the southwest corner of the

sixth floor was a colored male pacing back and forth. Needless tosay, I was astounded by his statement. I asked Mr. Rowland why he


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had not reported this incident before and he told me that he

thought they were secret service agents--an obvious conclusion for

a layman. Rowland continued. He told me that he looked back at

the sixth floor a few minutes later and the man with the rifle was

gone so he dismissed it from his mind.

I was writing all this down in my notebook and when I finished I

advised Mr. and Mrs. Rowland that I would have to detain them for astatement. I had started toward the Sheriff's Office with them

when lo and behold I was approached by Officer C. L. (Lummy) Lewis,

who asked me "What ya got"--a favorite expression of most

investigators with Bill Decker. I explained the situation to him

and told him of Rowland's account. Being the Good Samaritan he

was, Officer Lewis offered to take the Rowlands off my hands and

get their statements. This worked out a little better than my

first arrest. The Warren Commission decided not to accept Arnold

Rowland's story but at least they did not lose them. Hang in

there, Lummy!

The time was approximately 12:40 p.m. I had just turned the

Rowlands over to Lummy Lewis when I met E. R. (Buddy) Walthers,

a small man with a very arrogant manner. He was, without a doubt,Decker's favorite pupil. He wore dark-rimmed glasses and a small-

brimmed hat because effecting them meant that he would resemble

Bill Decker. Walthers had worked for the Yellow Cab Company of

Dallas before coming to the Sheriff's Office, about a year before I

began working there. His termination from the cab company was the

result of several shortages of money. He came to the Sheriff's

Department as a patrolman but because of his close connection with

Justice of the Peace Bill Richburg--one of Decker's closest allies

--Buddy soon was promoted to detective. He had absolutely no

ability as a law enforcement officer. However, he was fast

climbing the ladder of success by lying to Decker and squealing on

his fellow officers.

Walthers' ambition was to become Sheriff of Dallas County and he

would do anything or anybody to reach that goal. It was very clear

Buddy enjoyed more job security with Decker than anyone else did.

Decker carried him for years by breaking a case for him or taking a

case which had been broken by another officer and putting Walthers'

name on the arrest sheet. Soon after he was promoted to detective

he became intimate with such people as W. 0. Bankston, the

flamboyant Oldsmobile dealer in Dallas who furnished Decker with a

new Fire Engine Red Olds every year and who was arrested several

times for Driving while Intoxicated but never served any jail time.

Buddy's acquaintances also included several independent oil

operators throughout Texas, several anti-Castro Cubans and many

underworld characters--especially women! He was frequently

crashing parties which were given by wealthy friends of Decker's--

of course while he was *on* duty. He often became drunk and

belligerent at these parties and at one point, when asked to leave,

he threatened to pull his gun on the host. This information can be

verified by Billy Courson, who was Buddy's partner at that time.

Walthers hit the big time when, in 1961, two Federal Narcotics

Agents came to Decker's office with charges that Buddy was growing

marijuana in the back yard of his home at 2527 Boyd Street in the

Oak Cliff section of Dallas. This could be considered conduct

unbecoming to a police officer--but not for Buddy! After a secret

meeting between the Federal Agents, Decker and Buddy, the matter

was dropped and--needless to say--covered up, thus enabling Buddy

to continue his career as Decker's Representative of Law and Order

in Dallas County.

However, the Dallas Police began receiving complaints that Buddywas shaking down underworld characters for loot taken in several


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burglaries and selling the stuff himself. After several reports

the Dallas Police began to investigate and, finally, obtained a

search warrant for Buddy's home. Their BIG mistake was securing

the warrant from Judge Richburg--which was bad enough--but Buddy's

wife also worked for Richburg and this made matters worse.

Strangely enough, they did not find anything. However, a few weeks

later they were a little more careful and made a surprise visit toBuddy's home, where they indeed recovered such things as toasters,

clothing and various items--just as their informers had said. It

would seem they had him *this time*, wouldn't it? But not so.

Buddy explained that he had recovered the merchandise from where it

had been hidden and had not had time to make a report on them and

turn them in to the Property Room! The Dallas Police didn't buy

this story but the pressure was again brought to bear by our

Protector, Bill Decker, and the Dallas Police were left out in the

cold--no charges filed! They were certainly furious but what could

they do? If WE as citizens cannot fight the Establishment, how can

the Establishment fight the Establishment?

It was clear in my mind--and if the people with whom I worked

COULD talk, I am sure they would agree--that Buddy had a powerfulhold on Decker. I base this on the fact that Buddy's popularity

with Decker greatly increased after the assassination. Buddy was a

chronic liar--he was always telling Decker things he thought were

happening in the County which he was checking on. Things which he

was *not* doing. He also told Decker that he was in the theater

when Oswald was captured and that he, in fact, helped the Dallas

Police. This was completely untrue. Buddy never entered the Texas

Theater--his partner, Bill Courson, did.

Buddy also told Decker about a family of anti-Castro Cubans

living in the Oak Cliff area and said that he was watching them.

This part may have been true because we received the same

information from the Dallas Police Intelligence Division. But one

day Buddy made a visit to the house in Oak Cliff and when the

Police and Sheriff's Deputies went to question them a few days

later, they were gone. Did Buddy warn them? After all, he was

very, very close to Jack Ruby. In fact, every time Buddy was in

trouble with one of Jack Ruby's employees--especially Nancy

Perrin Rich--Decker would send Buddy to straighten things out and

put Nancy in her place--with the help of Judge Richburg. Touching

Jack Ruby was a no-no!

There were many other things which made Buddy suspect as a not-

so-law abiding lawman, such as the swimming pool he built in his

back yard (on *his* salary?). The concrete was furnished by a

local contractor free of charge. Buddy used many pills he carried

in the trunk of his unmarked squad car for trading with certain

underworld characters--pills for information. I learned from what

I consider a reliable source that these pills had been confiscated

(although no reports were made nor the pills turned in). Most of

those involved in this exchange were women. It would seem that

Buddy Walthers could not be terminated from the Sheriff's

Department, no matter what.

One incident in 1966 which would have resulted in the firing of

any other deputy occurred when Buddy was sent to Nevada to transfer

a suspect wanted in Dallas. It seemed Buddy was given a certain

amount of travel money which he lost at the gambling table in Las

Vegas. Broke and in trouble, Buddy called none other than W. O.

Bankston, who wired him enough money to bring his prisoner back to

Dallas. Many times I wondered who was REALLY Sheriff but Buddy was

about to reach the end of his rope.

In late 1968, when the Clay Shaw trial was being prepared, therewas talk of bringing Buddy to New Orleans to testify. Well, that


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was a blow to the power which ruled Dallas. They could not have

this half-wit on the witness stand. When the word reached Dallas,

Decker was working on a double-murder which occurred in *his*

county and had a lead on the suspect in January of 1969. The Shaw

trial was scheduled for February and Decker sent Buddy and his

partner, Alvin Maddox (who was about as efficient as a nutty

professor), to a motel on Samuell Boulevard in Dallas to questiona Walter Cherry about the killings. Cherry was an escaped convict

and a suspect in the double-murder. Decker sent them to talk to

Cherry without a warrant. When they entered the room at the motel

Buddy was shot dead and Maddox wounded in the FOOT. Coincidence?

Maybe! At any rate Buddy had been silenced. One more point for

Dallas!

Back to November 22, 1963. As I have earlier stated, the time

was approximately 12:40 p.m. when I ran into Buddy Walthers. The

traffic was very heavy as Patrolman Baker (assigned to Elm and

Houston Streets) had left his post, allowing the traffic to travel

west on Elm Street. As we were scanning the curb I heard a shrill

whistle coming from the north side of Elm Street. I turned and saw

a white male in his twenties running down the grassy knoll from thedirection of the Texas School Book Depository Building. A light

green Rambler station wagon was coming slowly west on Elm Street.

The driver of the station wagon was a husky looking Latin, with

dark wavy hair, wearing a tan wind-breaker type jacket. He was

looking up at the man running toward him. He pulled over to the

north curb and picked up the man coming down the hill. I tried to

cross Elm Street to stop them and find out who they were. The

traffic was too heavy and I was unable to reach them. They drove

away going west on Elm Street.

In addition to noting that these two men were in an obvious

hurry, I realized they were the only ones not running TO the scene.

Everyone else was running to see whatever might be seen. The

suspect, as I will refer to him, who ran down the grassy knoll was

wearing faded blue trousers and a long sleeved work shirt made of

some type of grainy material. This will become very important to

me later on and very embarrassing to the authorities (F.B.I.,

Dallas Police and Warren Commission). I thought the incident

concerning the two men and the Rambler Station Wagon important

enough to bring it to the attention of the authorities at the

command post at Elm and Houston.

I ran to the front of the Texas School Book Depository where I

asked for anyone involved in the investigation. There was a man

standing on the steps of the Book Depository Building and he turned

to me and said, "I'm with the Secret Service." This man was about

40 years old, sandy-haired with a distinct cleft in his chin. He

was well-dressed in a gray business suit. I was naive enough at

the time to believe that the only people there were actually

officers--after all, this was the command post. I gave him the

information. He showed little interest in the persons leaving.

However, he seemed extremely interested in the description of the

Rambler. This was the only part of my statement which he wrote

down in his little pad he was holding. Point: Mrs. Ruth Paine,

the woman Marina Oswald lived with in Irving, Texas, owned a

Rambler station wagon, at that time, of this same color.

* * * * * *


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II

From the book depository and of course that grassy knoll

And the Dal Tex building's shooter fulfilled his deadly role

The noon day sun was witness as they took their awful toll


I learned nothing of this "Secret Service Agent's" identity

until December 22, 1967 while we were living in New Orleans. The

television was on as I came home from work one night and there on

the screen was a picture of this man. I did not know what it was

all about until my wife told me that Jim Garrison had charged him

with being a part of the assassination plot. I called Jim Garrisonthen and told him that this was the man I had seen in Dallas on

November 22, 1963. Jim then sent one of his investigators to see

me with a better picture which I identified. I then learned that

this man's name was EDGAR EUGENE BRADLEY. It was a relief to me to

know his name for I had been bothered by the fact that I had failed

to get his name when he had told me he was a Secret Service Agent

and I had given him my information. On the night of the

assassination when I had come home and discussed the day with my

wife I had, of course, told her of this encounter and my failure to

get his name.

As I finished talking with the Agent I was confronted by the

High Priest of Dallas County Politics, Field Marshal Bill Decker.

Decker had, apparently, been standing directly behind me and had

overheard what I was saying. He called me aside and informed me

that the suspect had already left the scene. (How did you know,

James Eric? You had just arrived.) Decker then told me to help

them (the police) search the Book Depository Building. Decker

turned toward his office across the street, then suddenly stopped,

looked at me and said "Somebody better take charge of this

investigation." Then he continued walking slowly toward his

office, indicating that it was *not* going to be him.

When I entered the Book Depository Building I was joined by

Deputy Sheriffs Eugene Boone and Luke Mooney. We went up the

stairs directly to the sixth floor. The room was very dark and a

thick layer of dust seemed to cover everything. We went to the

south side of the building, since this was the street side and

seemed the most logical place to start.

Luke Mooney and I reached the southeast corner at the same time.

We immediately found three rifle cartridges laying in such a way

that they looked as though they had been carefully and deliberately

placed there--in plain sight on the floor to the right of the

southeast corner window. Mooney and I examined the cartridges very

carefully and remarked how close together they were. The three of

them were no more than one inch apart and all were facing in the

same direction, a feat very difficult to achieve with a bolt action

rifle--or any rifle for that matter. One cartridge drew our

particular attention. It was crimped on the end which would have

held the slug. It had not been stepped on but merely crimped over

on one small portion of the rim. The rest of that end was

perfectly round.Laying on the floor to the left of the same window was a small


11/36

brown paper lunch bag containing some well cleaned chicken bones.

I called across the room and summoned the Dallas Police I.D. man,

Lt. Day. When he arrived with his camera Mooney and I left the

window and started our search of the rest of the sixth floor.

We were told by Dallas Police to look for a rifle--something I

had already concluded might be there since the cartridges found

were, apparently, from a rifle. I was nearing the northwest cornerof the sixth floor when Deputy Eugene Boone called out, "here it

is." I was about eight feet from Boone, who was standing next to a

stack of cardboard boxes. The boxes were stacked so that there was

no opening between them except at the top. Looking over the top

and down the opening I saw a rifle with a telescopic sight laying

on the floor with the bolt facing upward. At this time Boone and I

were joined by Lt. Day of the Dallas Police Department and Dallas

Homicide Captain, Will Fritz. The rifle was retrieved by Lt. Day,

who activated the bolt, ejecting one live round of ammunition which

fell to the floor.

Lt. Day inspected the rifle briefly, then handed it to Capt.

Fritz who had a puzzled look on his face. Seymour Weitzman, a

deputy constable, was standing beside me at the time. Weitzman wasan expert on weapons. He had been in the sporting goods business

for many years and was familiar with all domestic and foreign

weapons. Capt. Fritz asked if anyone knew what kind of rifle it

was. Weitzman asked to see it. After a *close* examination (much

longer than Fritz or Day's examination) Weitzman declared that it

was a 7.65 German Mauser. Fritz agreed with him. Apparently,

someone at the Dallas Police Department also loses things but, at

least, they are more conscientious. They did replace it--even if

the replacement was made in a different country. (See Warren

Report for Italian Mannlicher-Carcano 6.5 Caliber).

At that exact moment an unknown Dallas police officer came

running up the stairs and advised Capt. Fritz that a Dallas

policeman had been shot in the Oak Cliff area. I instinctively

looked at my watch. The time was 1:06 p.m. A token force of

uniformed officers was left to keep the sixth floor secure and

Fritz, Day, Boone, Mooney, Weitzman and I left the building.

On my way back to the Sheriff's Office I was nearly run down

several times by Dallas Police cars racing to the scene of the

shooting of a fellow officer. There were more police units at the

J. D. Tippit shooting than there were at President John F.

Kennedy's assassination.

Tippit had been instructed to patrol the Oak Cliff area along

with Dallas Police Unit #87 at 12:45 p.m. by the dispatcher. Unit

#87 immediately left Oak Cliff and went to the triple underpass,

leaving Tippit alone. Why? At 12:54 p.m., J. D. Tippit, Dallas

Police Unit #78, gave his location as Lancaster Blvd., and Eighth

St., some ten blocks from the place where he was to be killed. The

Dallas dispatcher called Tippit at 1:04 p.m. and received no

answer. He continued to call three times and there was still no

reply. Comparing this time with the time I received news of the

shooting of the police officer at 1:06 p.m., it is fair to assume

Tippit was dead or being killed between 1:04 and 1:06 p.m. This is

also corroborated by the eye witnesses at the Tippit killing, who

said he was shot between 1:05 and 1:08 p.m.

According to Officer Baker, Dallas Police, he talked to Oswald

at 12:35 p.m. in the lunch room of the Texas School Book

Depository. This would give Oswald 30 minutes or less to finish

his coke, leave the building, walk four blocks east on Elm Street,

catch a bus and ride it back west in heavy traffic for two blocks,

get off the bus and walk two more blocks west and turn south onLamar Street, walk four blocks and have a conversation with a cab


12/36

driver and a woman over the use of Whaley's (the cab driver) cab,

get into the cab and ride to 500 North Beckley Street, get out and

walk to 1026 North Beckley where his (Oswald's) room was located,

pick up something (?); and if that is not enough, Earlene Roberts,

the housekeeper where Oswald lived, testified that at 1:05 p.m.

Oswald was waiting for a bus in front of his rooming house and

FINALLY, to make him the fastest man on Earth, he walked to EastTenth Street and Patton Street, several blocks away and killed J.

D. Tippit between 1:05 and 1:08 p.m. If he had not been arrested

when he was, it is my belief that Earl Warren and his Commission

would have had Lee Harvey Oswald eating dinner in Havana!

I was convinced on November 22, 1963, and I am still sure, that

the man entering the Rambler station wagon was Lee Harvey Oswald.

After entering the Rambler, Oswald and his companion would only

have had to drive six blocks west on Elm Street and they would have

been on Beckley Avenue and a straight shot to Oswald's rooming

house. The Warren Commission could not accept this even though it

*might* have given Oswald time to kill Tippit for having two men

involved would have made it a conspiracy!

As to Lee Harvey Oswald shooting J. D. Tippit, let us examinethe evidence: Dallas Police Unit #221 (Summers-refer-police radio

log) stated on the police radio that he had an "eye ball" witness

to the shooting. The suspect was a white male about twenty-seven,

five feet, eleven inches, black wavy hair, fair complexioned, (not

Oswald) wearing an Eisenhower-type jacket of light color, dark

trousers, and a white shirt, apparently armed with a .32 caliber,

dark-finish automatic pistol which he had in his right hand. (The

jacket strongly resembles that worn by the driver of the station

wagon).

Dallas Police Unit #550 Car 2 was driven to the scene of the

Tippit murder by Sgt. Gerald Hill. He was accompanied by Bud

Owens, Dallas Police Department, and William F. Alexander,

Assistant D.A. for Dallas. Unit #550 Car 2 reported over the

police radio that the shells at the scene indicated that the

suspect was armed with a .38 caliber automatic. 38 automatic

shells and 38 revolver shells are distinctly different. (Oswald

allegedly had a 38 revolver in his possession when arrested?)

After much confusion in the Oak Cliff area the Dallas Police

were finally directed to the Texas Theater where the suspect was

reported to be. Several squads arrived at the theater and quickly

surrounded it. At the back door was none other than William F.

Alexander, Assistant D.A., and several Dallas Police officers with

guns drawn. While Dallas Police Officer McDonald and others

entered the theater and turned on the lights and the suspect was

pointed out to them, they started searching people SEVERAL rows in

front of Oswald, giving him a chance to run if he wanted to--right

into the blazing guns of waiting officers!

This man had to be stopped. He was the most dangerous criminal

in the history of the world. Here was a man who was able to go

from one location to another with the swiftness of Superman, to

change his physical characteristics at will and who pumped four

automatic slugs into a police officer with a *revolver*--indeed a

master criminal!

Well, back to the facts? Oswald was captured by Officer

McDonald, who was out cold from one blow from the suspect and woke

up to find he had arrested the suspect! (Nice going, Mac).

Later that afternoon I received word of the suspect's arrest and

the fact that he was suspected of being involved in the President's

death. I immediately thought of the man running down the grassy

knoll. I made a telephone call to Capt. Will Fritz and gave himthe description of the man I had seen and Fritz said, "that sounds


13/36

like the suspect we have. Can you come up and take a look at him?"

I arrived at Capt. Fritz office shortly after 4:30 p.m. I was

met by Agent Bookhout from the F.B.I., who took my name and place

of employment. The door to Capt. Fritz' personal office was open

and the blinds on the windows were closed, so that one had to look

through the doorway in order to see into the room. I looked

through the open door at the request of Capt. Fritz and identifiedthe man who I saw running down the grassy knoll and enter the

Rambler station wagon--and it WAS Lee Harvey Oswald.

Fritz and I entered his private office together. He told

Oswald, "This man (pointing to me) saw you leave." At which time

the suspect replied, "I told you people I did." Fritz, apparently

trying to console Oswald, said, "Take it easy, son--we're just

trying to find out what happened." Fritz then said, "What about

the car?" Oswald replied, leaning forward on Fritz' desk, "That

station wagon belongs to Mrs. Paine--don't try to drag her into

this." Sitting back in his chair, Oswald said very disgustedly and

very low, "Everybody will know who I am now."

At this time Capt. Fritz ushered me from his office, thanking

me. I walked away saddened but relieved that it was the end of theday and I could go home, where I could try--at least for a little

while--to put the tragedy and the day's events out of my mind. I

was soon to find out that *my* troubles had only begun--for I had

seen and heard too much that fateful day.

Saturday, November 23, 1963, I spent the day at home talking to

my wife, Molly, about Friday's events and playing with Deanna and

Terry, not knowing that the very next day would bring another

tragic event which would affect not only my job but my entire

future.

Like many other Americans, I was watching television on Sunday

morning, November 24, 1963 when Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald.

I would like to clear up one thing at this point concerning Ruby's

access to the basement of the city jail. The Warren Commission

concluded that Dallas Police Officer R. E. Vaughn, through

negligence, let Jack Ruby into the basement. What they did not say

is that Officer Vaughn was questioned extensively after the

shooting and even submitted to a polygraph test, which he passed,

showing that he *did not* let Jack Ruby go down the Main Street

Ramp of the city jail. I have known Officer Vaughn for many years

and feel that he is honest, conscientious and one of the finest

people I have ever known. I feel that he was unjustly accused.

However, bombing Vaughn was the easiest way out for Earl Warren's

Commission.

* * * * * *

III

The industrial and military complex can't survive

Without their little horror wars they artfully contrive.If they push us to the big one then we won't come out alive


14/36


Things were fairly normal for me for the next few months, with

the exception of curious persons who popped into the Sheriff's

Office from time to time to ask me questions about the

assassination.On the first anniversary of the assassination a team of newsmen

from NBC New York came to Dallas. They wanted to do a documentary

on the assassination and they contacted Jim Kerr of the "Dallas

Times Herald," who told them of me.

Jim approached me and said that the NBC people were interested

in what I had to say and would I talk to them? Jim Kerr indicated

to me that he had it all set up. However, because I knew how Bill

Decker felt about anyone in his Department talking about this

particular event, I told him I would have to get Decker's

permission. NBC had been calling me since October 1964 asking to

talk to me but I would not commit myself.

When they arrived during the week of November 22, I went to

Decker to ask permission to do the story. Decker promptly sat medown in the private office, closed the door and sat there looking

at me for several minutes. It was difficult to tell if Decker was

looking at you--with that glass eye of his--but at the same time

you had the uneasy feeling that he was looking straight through

you. Decker began to talk with that even, never-rising voice which

commanded attention and gave you the feeling that it was dangerous

to interrupt or even question him.

Decker told me to tell these people (Jim Kerr and NBC) that I

was a Deputy Sheriff--not an actor--and for me to keep my mouth

shut. He then went on to say, "Tell them you didn't see or hear

anything." He then went back to the papers on his desk and I knew

he was through--and so was I. I relayed the message to Jim Kerr,

who was very disappointed--and even mad, but he, like me, knew that

he must not challenge Decker's law.

From that day forward Bill Decker began to watch my every move.

People in the office who, before this, very seldom spoke to me,

began to hang around watching my every move and listening to

everything I said. Among these were Rosemary Allen, E. R. (Buddy)

Walthers, Allen Sweatt and Bob Morgan--Decker's four top stoolies.

Combine the foregoing with the run-in I had with Dave Belin,

junior counsel for the Warren Commission, who questioned me in

April of 1964, and who changed my testimony fourteen times when he

sent it to Washington, and you will have some idea of the pressures

brought to bear.

David Belin told me who he was as I entered the interrogation

room (April 1964). He had me sit at the head of a long table. To

my left was a female with a pencil and pen. Belin sat to my right.

Between the girl and Belin was a tape recorder, which was turned

off. Belin instructed the girl not to take notes until he (Belin)

said to do so. He then told me that the investigation was being

conducted to determine the truth as the evidence indicates. Well,

I could take that several ways but I said nothing. Then Belin

said, "For instance, I will ask you where you were at a certain

time. This will establish your physical location." It was at this

point that I began to feel that I was being led into something but

still I said nothing. Then Belin said, "I will ask you about what

you *thought* you heard or saw in regard." Well, this was too

much. I interrupted him and said, "Counselor, just ask me the

questions and if I can answer them, I will." This seemed to

irritate Belin and he told the girl to start taking notes with thenext question.


15/36

At this point Belin turned the recorder on. The first questions

were typical. Where were you born? Where did you go to school?

When Belin would get to certain questions he would turn off the

recorder and stop the girl from writing. The he would ask me, for

example, "Did you see anything unusual when you were behind the

picket fence?" I said, "Yes" and he said, "Fine, just a minute."

He would then tell the girl to start writing with the next questionand would again start the recorder. What was the next question?

"Mr. Craig, did you go into the Texas School Book Depository?" It

was clear to me that he wanted only to record part of the

interrogation, as this happened many times.

I finally managed to get in at least most of what I had seen and

heard by ignoring his advanced questions and giving a step-by-step

picture, which further seemed to irritate him.

At the end of our session Belin dismissed me but when I started

to leave the room, he called me back. At this time I identified

the clothing wore by the suspect (the 26 volumes refer to a *box*

of clothing--not *boxes*. There were two boxes.)

After I identified the clothing Belin went over the complete

testimony again. He then asked, "Do you want to follow or waiveyour signature or sign now?" Since there was nothing but a tape

recording and a stenographer's note book, there was obviously

nothing to sign. All other testimony which I have read (a

considerable amount) included an explanation that the person could

waive his signature then or his statement would be typed and he

would be notified when it was ready for signature. Belin did not

say this to me.

He said an odd thing when I left. It is the only time that he

said it, and I have never read anything similar in any testimony.

"Be SURE, when you get back to the office, to thank Sheriff Decker

for *his* cooperation." I know of no one else he questioned who he

asked to *thank* a supervisor, chief, etc.

I first saw my testimony in January of 1968 when I looked at the

26 volumes which belonged to Penn Jones. My alleged statement was

included. The following are some of the changes in my testimony:

* Arnold Rowland told me that he saw two men on the

sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository 15

minutes before the President arrived: one was a Negro,

who was pacing back and forth by the *southwest* window.

The other was a white man in the *southeast* corner,

with a rifle equipped with a scope, and that a few

minutes later he looked back and only the white man was

there. In the Warren Commission: *Both* were *white*,

both were *pacing* in front of the *southwest* corner

and when Rowland looked back, *both* were gone;

* I said the Rambler station wagon was *light green*.

The Warren Commission: Changed to a *white* station

wagon;

* I said the driver of the Station Wagon had on a *tan*

jacket. The Warren Commission: A *white* jacket;

* I said the license plates on the Rambler were *not*

the same color as Texas plates. The Warren Commission:

Omitted the *not*--omitted but one word, an important

one, so that it appeared that the license plates *were*

the same color as Texas plates;

* I said that I *got* a *good look* at the driver of the


16/36

Rambler. The Warren Commission: I did *not* get a good

look at the Rambler. (In Captain Fritz's office) I had

said that Fritz had said to Oswald, "This man saw you

leave" (indicating me). Oswald said, "I told you people

I did." Fritz then said, "Now take it easy, son, we're

just trying to find out what happened", and then (to

Oswald), "What about the car?" to which Oswald replied,"That station wagon belongs to Mrs. Paine. Don't try to

drag her into this." Fritz said *car*--station wagon

was not mentioned by anyone but Oswald. (I had told

Fritz over the telephone that I saw a man get into a

station wagon, before I went to the Dallas Police

Department and I had also described the man. This is

when Fritz asked me to come there). Oswald then said,

"Everybody will know who I am now;" the Warren

Commission: Stated that the last statement by Oswald

was made in a dramatic tone. This was not so. The

Warren Commission also printed, "NOW everybody will know

who I am", transposing the *now*. Oswald's tone and

attitude was one of disappointment. If someone wereattempting to conceal his identity as Deputy and he was

found out, exposed--his cover blown, his reaction

would be dismay and disappointment. This was Oswald's

tone and attitude--disappointment at being exposed!

Shortly after the Kerr and Belin incidents, the Sheriff took me

out of the field and assigned me to the Bond Desk. This meant that

I was sitting directly in line with Decker's office door, where he

could watch me. It made me feel a little like a goldfish in a

bowl!

While I was on the Bond Desk I noticed Eva Grant (Jack Ruby's

sister) was making daily visits to Decker's office. During this

time Eva and I came to be on good terms. It was convenient for her

to speak to me when she came in because of the position of my

desk--close to the door leading into the Sheriff's Department. As

time went on Eva Grant would stop me in the hall every time I went

for a cup of coffee or took a break. Decker became very concerned

over this and it was not long before I realized that ever time Eva

and I talked we were joined by someone. In addition to this, Buddy

Walthers would be standing close by and listening. (This is

another example of his talents as a peace officer--that he would

make himself so conspicuous.) First he would stand and listen, and

then head into Decker's office.

After a few days of this and armed with information from this

so-called detective--who couldn't track an elephant through the

snow with a nose bleed--Decker called me into his office and

pointed to a chair without saying a word. Well, knowing he wasn't

giving me the chair or asking me to look it over, I sat down.

After a long silence he finally said, "What about it?" This was

Decker's way of telling you he knew it (whatever it was) and he

wanted you to "confess". I felt sure Eva Grant was going to be the

subject of conversation but I was determined to make him start the

interrogation--after all he wanted the answers and, apparently,

Buddy had not heard as much as he thought he had.

Finally he gave in and said, "You've been talking to Eva Grant."

I said, "Yes sir." Decker then said, "What about?" I replied,

"She is concerned about Jack's depressed state of mind and worried

about the fact that he looks ill." Decker said, "That's none of

your business." I replied with the only thing that Decker wouldaccept--I said, "No sir." Apparently sure that he had convinced me


17/36

once again that there was no law except Decker's law, he pointed to

the door and I left. He was a man of few words!

The next day Eva and I had another talk. She was getting more

and more concerned about Jack's health. She had been to see Decker

several times trying to secure medical help for her brother. By

this time the rumor was all through the Sheriff's office that Jack

was, indeed, ill. Most of this information came from the deputiesassigned to guard him. The deputies were Walter Neighbors, James

R. Keene, Jess Stevenson, Jr., and others. Finally Decker

permitted a doctor to see Jack, a psychiatrist, who said Jack Ruby

had a cold!

A few weeks passed, during which time I received same telephone

calls concerning the assassination and my testimony. These calls

came from various people from different parts of the country who

were, apparently, just interested. These calls somehow were

reported to Bill Decker. Not having a reason to fire me, he did

the next best thing, he had a monitoring unit connected to the

telephone system so that he could periodically check any telephone

calls.

I will not go into the events leading to Jack Ruby's death.Much has already been written about this but I would like to say

that Jack Ruby made several statements to guards, jail supervisors

and assistant D.A.'s in which he said "they are going to kill me."

These statements became a private joke among these people and they

discussed them freely in the hall of the court house. When the

Sheriff from Wichita Falls, Texas came to observe the prisoner he

was about to take charge of, due to Ruby's change of venue, he

refused to accept the prisoner on the grounds that Ruby was very

ill. Then, and only then, did Decker send Ruby to Parkland

Hospital where he died a few short days later (some cold!).

I was not too concerned about the minor attention I was

receiving from Decker regarding the assassination and its aftermath

until August 7, 1966. At 2:30 a.m, I was approached by Hardy M.

Parkerson, an attorney from New Orleans, La. Mr. Parkerson was

interested in the assassination and the Jack Ruby trial. I was

working late nights on the Bond Desk when he came to the Sheriff's

office. He asked me several questions relating to these tragic

events and I answered him as honestly as I could and he thanked me

and left.

However, on October 1, 1966 Mr. Parkerson wrote to me advising

me that I was receiving more publicity than I might be aware of.

He mentioned in his letter that he had picked up a book on a New

Orleans newsstand. The book was entitled, "The Second Oswald" by

Richard H. Popkin and my report had been mentioned in the book.

This disturbed me as I knew my popularity with Decker was fading

anyway.

On October 18 I received another letter from Mr. Parkerson. It

seemed that he had come across another book on a New Orleans

newsstand which mentioned my name. This one was "Inquest" by

Edward J. Epstein. Then I began to worry a bit. Of course other

names were mentioned also in these books but I was concerned

because of my employer's attitude and the fact that I was in

definite conflict with the Warren Commission in my testimony.

In February of 1967 the lid blew off. District Attorney Jim

Garrison announced publicly his probe into the John F. Kennedy

Assassination. It wasn't long--in fact, a matter of hours--until

Decker walked up to me and asked, "Have you been talking to Jim

Garrison?" I told him that I had not, which was the truth. Decker

then said, "Somebody sure as hell has." That was the beginning of

the end of my career as a law officer and my future in DallasCounty.


18/36

As more and more books critical of the Warren Commission began

to hit the newsstands throughout the country and I received calls

and visitors asking questions my future with the Sheriff's Office

became VERY SHAKY. Finally, on July 4, 1967 Bill Decker called me

into his office and told me to check out. Knowing there was no

grievance board and that Decker was the supreme ruler of his

domain, I left the Sheriff's Office for good.I was saddened by the loss of eight years in a job that I had

given my ALL to. But I was soon to find out that this was only the

down payment on the price that I was to pay for the truth! I

immediately began looking for work and found that the Commerce Bail

Bond Company was just opening an office and needed someone to help

in the office as Les Hancock, the owner, was just starting out.

Mr. Hancock and I had a long talk and he agreed that I would be

an asset to the business because he knew nothing about it and I was

familiar with bonds and most of the people at the Sheriff's Office

as well as those wishing to make bond. Les and I seemed to get

along very well. I posted most of the bonds and kept track of our

clients. Posting the first few bonds with the county went slowly

--although the money was in escrow, Decker wanted to personallyapprove *all* bonds posted by me. I did not mind this delaying

tactic because all it involved was a little extra time for me. The

bonding business was going very well--within two months we were

making money.

I kept up as much as possible on Jim Garrison's probe and

decided to write him and tell him what I knew--if it would help

him. Jim Garrison answered my letter and asked me to call him, at

which time he made arrangements for my trip to New Orleans.

Les Hancock tried to persuade me not to go, saying I shouldn't

get involved (a little late). I arrived in New Orleans in late

October and was picked up at the airport by Bill Boxley, one of

Jim's investigators, and four men who *didn't* work for Jim.

Boxley took me to a motel where I was to meet Jim and the other

four men followed--apparently, they were not invited. Most of my

talks with Jim were at his office while my "tails" (apparently

government agents) searched my room. I must apologize to them for

not bringing what they could "use."

I had several meetings with Jim Garrison. He showed me numerous

pictures taken in Dealey Plaza on November 22, 1963. Among them

was a picture of a Latin male. I recognized him as being the same

man I had seen driving the Rambler station wagon in which I had

seen Oswald leave the Book Depository area. I was surprised and I

asked Jim who the man was. Jim did not know but he did say this

man was arrested in Dealey Plaza immediately after the

assassination but was released by Dallas Police because he could

not speak English! This was, to me, highly unusual. In my

experience as a police officer I had never known of a person (or

prisoner) being released because of a language barrier.

Interpreters were, of course, always available.

We also discussed the 45 caliber slug found on the south side of

Elm Street, in the grass, by E. R. (Buddy) Walthers. Buddy had

indeed found such a slug. He and I discussed it the evening of

November 22, 1963. Buddy also gave a statement to the Dallas Press

confirming this find (found among bits of brain matter). However,

he later denied finding it--after Decker had a long talk with him

and subsequent to newsmen questioning the Sheriff about the

evidence.

Jim Garrison also had a picture of an unidentified man picking

up this 45 slug and Buddy is also in that photograph. I asked

Buddy about this many times--after his denial--but he never madeany comment.


19/36

Jim also asked me about the arrests made in Dealey Plaza that

day. I told him I knew of twelve arrests, one in particular made

by R. E. Vaughn of the Dallas Police Department. The man Vaughn

arrested was coming from the Dal-Tex Building across from the Texas

School Book Depository. The only thing which Vaughn knew about him

was that he was an independent oil operator from Houston, Texas.

The prisoner was taken from Vaughn by Dallas Police detectives andthat was the last that he saw or heard of the suspect.

Incidentally, there are no records of any arrests, either by the

Dallas Police Department or the Sheriff's Office, made in Dealey

Plaza on November 22, 1963. Very strange! *Any* and *all* arrests

made during my eight years as an officer were recorded. It may not

have been entered as a record with the Identification Bureau but a

report was always typed and a permanent record kept--if only in our

case files. A report on any questioning shows a reason for your

action and protects you against false arrest. I am saying that

there is *absolutely* no record in the case files or any place

else.

Upon returning to Dallas from my first contact with Jim

Garrison, I was picked up by another "tail". I was followedconstantly after that. My wife could not even go to the grocery

store without being followed. Sometimes they would go so far as to

pull up next to her and make sure she saw them talking on their

two-way radios. They would also park across from my house and sit

for hours making sure I knew they were there.

On the morning of November 1, 1967 I received a call from a

friend of mine. He owned a night club at Carroll and Columbia

Streets in Dallas. Bill said that he wanted to see me and would I

meet him in front of the club. Bill had called me many times when

I was a deputy as he was frequently in financial trouble and I

would have the citation issued for him held up until he was in a

position to accept them. Some people in Dallas did receive Special

Treatment in the matter of citations. Bill was not one of these

but I did this for him because I knew that by holding it up a day

or so I could save his credit rating--and the creditor would be

paid without having a Judgment entered. We were friends and it was

a natural--and practical thing to do.

When Bill called me on November 1 he said he wanted to talk to

me about money he owed the Bonding Company where I worked--for

getting one of his employees out of jail on traffic tickets. He

had asked that I meet him at 9:00 a.m. At about 8:30 a.m. "me and

my shadows" started for the club, arriving at approximately 9:00

a.m.

When I parked in front of Bill's club "my shadows" began one of

the sweetest set-ups I had ever seen. One car, a tan Pontiac,

parked one block in front of my car, racing me, and the other, a

white Chevrolet with a small antenna protruding from the roof, kept

circling the block again and again, never stopping. There were two

men in the Chevrolet. I couldn't get a good look at the driver but

the other man was in his early thirties. He had dark hair, was

nice looking and wore a black-and-white checked sport coat.

Bill had never been late before for an appointment with me but

he was this time. When it was nearing 10:15 I began to worry that

those poor bastards would get dizzy from driving around and around

--and might hit someone.

Finally, at 10:15 a.m. Bill arrived and we went to the Waffle

House across the street for coffee. There, as big as life, sitting

on a stool was the man in the sport jacket--from the white

Chevrolet. Well . . . we sat down and had coffee. We talked

about how each of us was doing--just shot the bull--and Bill neverdid bring up the subject which he had said he wanted to discuss


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with me!

When we finished we started to leave and the man in the sport coat

jumped up and beat us out of the door. We paid our checks and

walked out the door and my shadow was nowhere in sight--believe

me, I looked. We crossed the parking lot and stopped at the

traffic light, as it was red against us. For some reason I stepped

down off the curb before the light changed. As I did, Bill fellflat on the sidewalk. I was about to find out why. At that very

instant a shot rang out behind me and the hair just above my left

ear parted. I felt a pressure and sharp pain on the left side of

my head. I bolted for my car leaving Bill lying on the ground. I

heard him say, "You son of a bitch" and I jumped into my car and

drove home as fast as possible. When I arrived home I told my wife

what this good friend had done for me. I pondered the idea of

moving my family to some safe place.

A curious note: my friend (?) Bill was deeply in debt and about

to lose his business at the time of the shooting. However, about a

month later he was completely out of debt, his business was doing

great and he had invested in two other businesses which were doing

very well. (Payment was, apparently, not withheld just because thetrigger man missed.) I decided to get in touch with Jim Garrison.

I tried all day and finally reached him around ten that evening.

After I told him what had happened he said someone would be at my

home within the hour.

At approximately 11 p.m. someone knocked on the door and I

opened it with my left hand, holding my 45 automatic in my right

hand. Standing there was a small but well-built man in his late

forties or early fifties. He said, "My name is Penn Jones. Jim

Garrison called me." My hand tightened on the 45 when my wife,

Molly, took hold of me and said, "I've seen him on T.V. *He is*

Penn Jones." With that I relaxed and he remained Penn Jones!

Penn Jones listened to my story and then began making telephone

calls to newsmen and wire services that he had contact with,

explaining to me that the best protection for me was open coverage

on the incident. After a long talk with Penn Jones I found that I

had a great deal of respect and admiration for this man. Although

small in stature, I felt he would fight the devil himself to find

the truth about the assassination.

The next day, November 2, 1967, when I went to work at Commerce

Bail Bonds I was approached by two reporters and a photographer

from Channel 8 in Dallas. They had picked the story up on the news

wire and wanted a personal interview. After the interview my boss,

Les Hancock, called me into his office and told me he didn't think

that I should have done the interview (giving no specific reason).

The next few days Les' attitude was very cold and he would barely

speak to me. Then, on the 7th of November he called me into his

office once again. This time he told me the business wasn't doing

well and he would have to let me go because he was closing the

office. Of course, I knew better than this--after all I had access

to all the records and I knew the business was making money. A few

days later I found out Les merely moved to another location and

his business continued as usual.

However, this knowledge did not help me for I was back pounding

the pavement looking for work. In the meantime I had been in

contact with Jim Garrison. He informed me that there was an

opening at Volkswagon International in New Orleans and that I might

try there. By this time my health had begun to be affected. I had

undergone a serious stomach operation in August of 1963 and I

suffer from chronic bronchitis and emphysema (not to mention Dallas

County Battle Fatigue).My family and I made the trip to New Orleans, where I was


21/36

interviewed by Willard Robertson, the owner of the company. Mr.

Robertson told me he was looking for a Personnel Manager and

because of my background of dealing with the public he hired me.

After a long trip back to Dallas where we gathered up our meager

belongings we moved to New Orleans and I felt good--I was working

again!

We had been there but a few days when all of our neighbors andhalf the people where I was working knew who I was. This was due

to the newspaper and television coverage of Jim Garrison's probe

into the assassination. Again came the never-ending questions,

which I did not mind because outside of Dallas people were

sincerely interested and I certainly did not mind doing what I

could to clear up any doubts they had. The people at the office

treated me very well.

Unfortunately, after about a month I realized that I was not

doing anything but going in to the office and coming home--nothing

in between. Although I appreciated Jim Garrison recommending me

for the job, I knew by this time that he had done this because he

was concerned about my safety and wanted me out of Dallas. Because

this company did not really need a Personnel Manager and I couldn'ttake the money for a job I was not doing, I submitted my

resignation to Mr. Robertson and my family and I returned to Dallas.

We arrived back in Dallas on a cold and snowy seventh of

January, 1968, and moved in with Molly's parents as we had very

little money and nowhere to stay. The next few days I spent

looking for work. I tried every ad and every lead I could find.

The people who interviewed me always seemed interested but like all

companies, they wanted to check out my references. When I failed

to receive any results from my efforts, I called some of the places

where I had placed applications to see what was wrong. I always

received the same answer, "the position had been filled." Finally,

I decided something was WRONG and I suspected one employment

reference, Bill Decker. I had a friend write Decker asking for an

employment reference--he never received an answer!

My next move was to have someone call Decker and ask for a

reference and this took some doing. Writing him was one thing but

talking to him on the telephone was another. He would bait you on

the telephone and, before you knew it, he knew who you were and

whether you were legitimate or not.

Many people in Dallas liked Decker for the favors he could do

for them but those who did not like him were afraid of the

tremendous power he possessed in Dallas County. They were afraid

to oppose him in any issue for fear that this man could, indeed,

affect their professional careers. A good example is the charge,

"Hold for Decker." This meant that when Decker wanted to talk to

you or some friend of his disagreed with an arrest (without

warrant), you were detained in the county jail until Decker wished

to talk or release you. NO attorney in Dallas County would dare

apply for a writ of habeas corpus to secure your release.

Well, to get back to my "minor" problem, I finally found

someone to call Decker for a reference and when he did Decker

informed him that, "Mr. Craig had worked for me and I would not

re-hire him and that is all I've got to say about Mr. Craig." So .

. . I had worked for the Sheriff for eight years and yet, without a

reference, it was as though those years had never existed. How do

you explain this kind of situation to a prospective employer?

After many more exhaustive interviews, I found a company, on

February 1, 1968, which had just opened a branch office in Dallas

and was in BAD need of security guards to work in department stores

where they had new contracts. When I applied for the job I toldthem of my background in law enforcement, leaving out the details


22/36

of my separation with the Sheriff's Office. I only showed them the

watch I was wearing, which is inscribed: Roger D. Craig, First

Place, Sheriff's Department 1960. (The award was for Officer of

the Year). They were impressed and with a sigh of relief I was

hired without the customary background check.

My first assignment was a department store in East Dallas, where

I held the very important position of keeping the shopping basketsout of the aisles. (Don't knock it--I was working 12 hours a day

and making a whopping $1.60 per hour).

By this time my creditors were knocking on my door day and

night. All of the furniture we had, which was not much, we lost

and then "along came Jones."

I had contacted Penn when I arrived back in Dallas and after I

lost the car he let me use his 1955 Ford, which he wasn't driving,

and I was back in business!

Because of the crowded quarters at Molly's parents, we began to

search for an apartment. We found many and were turned down every

time. Some people said they did not want to rent to families with

children. Others would accept us and then when we were ready to

move in, they would say it was already rented and they had"forgotten." Finally, in mid-February we found a couple on Tremont

Street, who were not afraid to rent to us. Oh, they knew who I was

but they said it did not matter--they had kept up on the

assassination.

Our only outlet for our tensions were the Sunday trips we made

to the Penn Jones home in Midlothian, Texas. During these visits I

would try to bring Penn up to date on the latest from the Dallas

Police Department and Sheriff's Office. I was able to give him

some help from time to time because I could keep in touch with

these offices through officers there who were still friendly toward

me. It was fun and relaxing to get together with Penn and his wife

L.A., who is a delightful person with a great sense of humor. The

two of them made you feel as though the whole world was right

there.

On one of these visits Penn told me he was going to appear on

the Joe Pyne show in Los Angeles and asked if I would go with him.

Needless to say, I owed Penn Jones much over the previous months

and if I would be an asset, I was certainly prepared to go, I told

him. I got a leave of absence from my employer, Penn made the

arrangements and we were off to Los Angeles.

The Los Angeles trip was a success as far as I was concerned,

especially when we spoke to the young people at U.C.L.A. They were

very concerned about the assassination and were kind to Penn and

me. The only disappointment came in the form of Otto Preminger,

who was sitting in for Joe Pyne that night. I think his statement

to the audience speaks for itself. He said that he believed

whole-heartedly in the Warren Report and when I asked him if he had

read the Warren Report, he said "no"! After a week of appearances

on television and radio my lungs were beginning to give me trouble

and I returned to Dallas with Mrs. Jones, while Penn went on to San

Francisco.

After a few weeks back on my important job of keeping the

shopping carts in line I found that at a dollar and sixty cents an

hour I had too much month left at the end of the money. We were

behind on our rent and, oh well, back to the want ads.

We found a couple who were looking for someone to live in and

care for their elderly mother, rent free. After all this time

there was something free? Getting settled did not take very long-

-with just a few clothes. This worked out fairly well. I worked

twelve hours a day and Molly did all of the washing, ironing,cooking and cleaning--in addition to caring for Terry, Deanna and


23/36

Roger Jr. (who had been staying previously with his grandmother).

Did I say free?

In the meantime Penn had returned from San Francisco and during

a visit to our house he told me he could get me a job in Midlothian

working at an oil refinery and that the pay was $500.00 per month.

I hated to give up the prestige of my present position but money

was money. I gave my employer notice and on April 15, 1968 Istarted work at the refinery. This was not crude oil but used

motor oil--we re-re-processed it. The work was new to me and I had

never re-refined used motor oil before. I found that I was a

little soft. I had to dump three thousand pounds (50 fifty-pound

bags) of clay into hot oil every morning and pump it back into the

still which cooked it. This whipped me into shape quite

rapidly. I was not concerned with the physical work involved for I

knew that I had a chance to support my family and that was what

counted.

The work went smoothly until the second Thursday of May, 1968

when, while trying to start an engine at the plant, I slipped and

broke my arm--"good ole lady luck." I had my arm set and missed

one day of work. On Monday morning I returned to work, knowing Icould not live on workmen's compensation, which was about $40.00

per week. I painfully continued to work with the arm in a cast for

the next six weeks.

During this six week period my boss had offered to let me move

into a house he owned in Midlothian so that I would be closer to

work. I took him up on the offer because I was driving sixty miles

each day to work and back and Molly was worried about me driving

and working with the broken arm and--again I was being followed.

During this time a Dallas Sheriff's car stopped me and asked

where I was going. I had known this deputy for several years and

there was no reason for his behavior. Molly's health was getting

worse. She had serious stomach disorders and the strain of past

events had not helped--so we moved. Now we were in Midlothian and

I was driving four miles to work and back.

During the time I was still driving back and forth from Dallas

to Midlothian--or the job--I noticed that I was being followed by a

blue and white pick-up, occupied by a white male. One day, after

being followed by this truck for several days, as the truck was

approaching the driver stuck a revolver out the window and was

about to fire, when another car pulled up behind me and he withdrew

the pistol.

My hours were never the same two days in a row but this man

seemed to know the precise hour I would leave work. Penn Jones and

I tried to set a trap for this man but, apparently, he knew it and

got away. I never saw him after that.

It was six weeks since I had broken my arm and this was the day

I was to have the cast taken off. I felt good as it had been quite

a burden. On that morning I reported for work and started

preparing the pumps and tanks for cooking the oil when lady luck

smiled down on me once again. I started to light the furnace and

it blew up, burning my face and a good deal of hair and my arms.

This was around the first of July, 1968. After the doctor treated

me, he advised me that I would have to wear the cast another two

weeks because he was afraid that I would get an infection in the

burned area if the cast were removed. I do not want to leave the

impression that my conflict with the Dallas establishment was the

direct cause of these accidents. However, had the door not been

closed to me in Dallas, I would not have had to turn to work with

which I was not familiar.

In August of 1968 (while living in Midlothian) I received avisit in the middle of the night from a man in his fifties who said


24/36

he was out of gas. I was already in bed and Molly was catching up

on some of my court records when this man came to the door. Molly

roger craig - when they kill a president

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